[Intro: Method Man & Ghostface Killah]
One-two, one-two
Got me open, kid, one-two, one-two
Two, one-two, yeah
Method Man, Ghostface Killah in the house (Word up)
Check me out, check me out, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, Method Man, yo
Method Man, yo, listen

[Verse 1: Method Man & Ghostface Killah]
What's 6-foot-4 coming at your jaw?
It's me kid, coming from the 1-6-0
I got crew kid, straight from the smoked out lungs of the mad one
Blow a crab to kingdom come 'cause it's real son
Represent what town you're from
And I kill rhymes quicker than a clock kill time
Word life, god, fuck making fancy moves
I need props, forget about a Hill Street Blue
This is my block, n***a wanna test my stee
I make shit hot, burn to a third degree
And it don't stop, keep on to the break of dawn
And I rip cords in half with the Wu-Tang style
What up? Ha, you're blind 'cause you don't know math
You's a bitch-ass n***a from a lightweight class
Caution, you're pissing me off and its forcin'
Me to have thoughts of extortion (Yeah, yo)
[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah & Method Man]
I'ma be here forever, max like the weather
Thoughts designed and classified like genuine leather
As I get down to the Brownsville
You remain still as I shoot the gift at will
With rough raps banging off of marvelous tracks
Paragraphs slamming like a late night snack
The rap therapist, you could get with this rhyme specialist
Yes, I be possessed, leaving threats like a terrorist
Blood spiller, ex-convict, verbal assaulter
Disguising as a psychiatrist whose name's Walter
Now I like smuggling mics of all types
Spotlights at the airport and catch a flight
To another chamber, then I will strike like a stranger
Bad guys shorten they lives and lose fingers (Hey, hey)

[Verse 3: Method Man]
I swing funky rap routines and tap the jaws
Spot you 20 points, bet you still can't score
Nothing, 'cause you ain't got no points in this game
Bitch, you frontin', I'm home run hittin', you be buntin'
Fresh out the toilet, I got my shit together
When I'm good, I'm good, when bad, I'm better
You want it? Whatever, I'll be the stormy weather
Rain coming down so weatherproof your leather
Jacket, a n***a with an axe couldn't hack it
I spark him like a match, ch-chew, of a MAC
It's the Method, say it loud, that the Method
Man, clap your hands, now check it
See me in the mix rolling fat blunts and spliffs
For my physical, brother came through and got me lit
N***as that I walk by, give me the eye
The moment is fuckin' me up, killin' me high
N***a, get back, you're pussy cat, fearsome
Basically that, I'm all of that and them some
While I was out on tour going berserk
I heard you was at the sandbox and kicking dirt
All on my name, but you can't pull my files
You don't know me and you don't know my style
'Member that hair like that there? Yeah
Even Grizzly Adams couldn't bare
[Verse 4: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, I'ma set it with one shot, forget me not
Ghostface blows the spot, popping n***as like Ronnie Lott
But of course, Wu-Tang Clan made The Source in no time
N***as got flipped and tossed off the single
Hittin' like a bell when I jingle
A fat rap dose of the Ghost is what I bring you
At last, the Wu-Tang Clan got me gassed
Labeled as a outcast, the beat got smashed
Back up, thoughts is mad buck with real acts
Like shorty hooded up in a church with two MACs
Thoughts react so fast, I'm so sick
So quick to jig a n***a up with an ice pick
I'm stranded, facing your peeps, I be the one
Picture Ghostface and the son, be on the run
Reject that, brothers wouldn't never expect that
Running up on the god Ghost, what's the catch?
My technique, the words I speak shoot your freak
I get deep like killing George Bush in his sleep
Untold, no one seen shit, no one heard jack
I'm overseas counting G's relaxed and laid back

[Verse 5: Method Man]
Are you ready to face the consequences and suffer?
I'll even take ya mama, you ain't shit, motherfucker
Bring it, and let that killer bee kid sting it
And represent, it's like heads up, a brick
When I swing it, get lost, I'll break you off something
I'm pumping, like a Reebok, with my pump
From the jump and you was nothing
Bet you thought your freaking clan had ya back but they was fronting
Smoking dirt blunts and fucking nasty sluts and
You just a naked gun without the bullet, what you busting?
Get your ship sunken, messing with this drunken
Master disaster at any rap function, listen
Who said the Wu-Tang Clan, was it you or your man?
You wanna point the finger, I'll bring ya
36 chambers, be out, you's in danger
Let me pull your brain out your ass with a hanger
Didn't mama tell ya not to talk to a stranger?
Now ya got ya neck in the noose of the strangler
Just recline, keep the Meth in mind
I'll even test a knuckle check on the hands of time
[Verse 6: Ghostface KIllah]
Nonchalantly, I roll up on the rap scene bluntly
And lamp like I'm knocking off keys collecting monthly
My nickel plated pattern of stacks rips The Gavin
I build like I'm a stacking a log to make a cabin
Runnin' wild in Midtown, hit the ground quick
Mad bodies being lost and found
No one can stop me 'cause that's a sin, you know era
One thing, I bring the MC's, it be terror
Kick dirt on jerks and shit, I be the expert
Catch a hole in your shirt, John, I do work
Ghostface maxing in the hall of fame place
Suicidal blends that kick like no place
Surviving, crazy live when I flips a track
I hit a reverend in the head with a bat
And threw his head in a showcase
In a glass box with no case
Who did it? Ghostface

[Verse 7: Method Man]
Ha, it be the Method Man coming again
Goddamn at your command, listen
Ring your gong, it's right not now, but right fuckin' now
Recognize who the man, Meth Tical
Coming from the slums of the Shaolin Isle, I be smoking
Like a 24-hour store, I stays open
Daylight, and I'm about to catch this flight to the far side
Some stay my style is trife as Apartheid
Knocking on the next man's door
With the .44 automatic cocked for sure
You get yours, first you gotta get mine, son
Read your horoscope saying that it can't be done
Hey, I get down with the Angel of Death
I be's a pirate lampin' on the Dead Man's chest
What? What? Huh, n***as wanna get stressed
I stick that ass for your Meth, Ghostface

[Verse 8: Ghostface Killah]
Yeah, check it, fresh joint from out the stash, yo, yo
First of all son, peep the arson
Many brothers I be sparking and busting mad light inside the dark
And call me dough snatcher, just the brother for the rapture
I hang glide, holding on strong, hard to capture
Extravagant, RZA bake the track and it's militant
Then I react like a convict and start killing shit
It's manifested, the Gods work like appliances
Dealing in my cypher, I revolve around sciences
9th chamber, you get trapped inside my hallway
You try to flee, but you got smoked by the doorway
No question, I send your ass back, right to the essence
Your whole frame is smothered in dirt, now how you resting?
While I'll be trapped by sounds, locked behind loops
Throwing n***as off airplanes 'cause cash rules
Everything around me, Black, as you can see
Swallow this number one verse like God's Degree
Then analyze my soundtrack for satisfaction
And you adapt like a flashback chain reaction

[Outro]
Yeah, nobody, done (Word up)
Nothin' come after that (Boom, boom, boom)
Ghostface blew up the spot (I'm outta here)